


Imago

by sakuuya



Series: Titan Arum [5]
Category: Battle for London in the Air
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Murder, Implied/Referenced Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakuuya/pseuds/sakuuya
Summary: Just a short conversation between Dr. Jhandir and Andrew a few months after the end ofThe Cave. An epilogue of sorts.





	Imago

Doc,” Andrew said, framed in the doorway of Dr. Jhandir’s room. He looked uncertain, on that threshold, but the doctor couldn’t imagine why.

“Yes?” Dr. Jhandir scooted his chair around to fully face Andrew, wishing he could afford a proper desk and swivel chair. Soon, perhaps.

“Have you...have you been killing people for the Black Birds?”

Dr. Jhandir looked him right in the eye as he replied. “Yes,” he said simply. Surely, there was no need to dissemble, not with Andrew, not now. “I started almost two months ago.”

In fact, he hadn’t intended to share that particular talent of his with Morrissey and his thugs, but he’d been forced to oversee so many mismanaged, counterproductive interrogations that eventually, he’d felt he had no choice but to intervene. And once Morrissey had seen what he was capable of...well, Dr. Jhandir was quite pleased with the mix of work the Birds were throwing his way these days. It was gratifying to have his talents acknowledged for once.

Dr. Jhandir’s answer was apparently unsatisfactory, because Andrew continued to lurk in the doorway, fidgeting. “Why do you ask?” the doctor added, in the hope that the Irishman would admit to whatever was bothering him. 

“It’s just, you haven’t asked to go out and kill someone in a long time, and I—”

“You were worried that I had gone back to preying upon the innocent?” Dr. Jhandir asked, his lips quirking into a little smile at the theatricality of the phrase. “No, the only men Morrissey feels deserve my particular attention are members of rival gangs. You have no reason to be concerned.”

Andrew smiled too, a small, sheepish thing that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “That was part of it. But”—he spread his hands helplessly—“Mostly, I was just getting a little itchy.”

It took Dr. Jhandir a moment to work out what his friend meant (for one thing, though their current flat was certainly better than the hellhole they’d inhabited when they first arrived in Manhattan, lice were still far from out of the question), but once he had it, his half-smile bloomed into a wide grin.

“Andrew…” Dr. Jhandir breathed, wondering how he could possibly have been so fortunate to have befriended this man, to have guided his metamorphosis into this current state. “I thought that, even after everything that’s happened, you would be put off if I asked you to kill with me too frequently, so I was pleased to get the opportunity to fulfill my desires elsewhere, in a context you wouldn’t find objectionable. I underestimated you, and I apologize. If you’d like, we can go out tonight.”

The doctor had been meaning to catch up on some journal reading that evening—he felt it was important to keep abreast of current research, even though his patients these days likely wouldn’t know the difference—but there was no way he could deny Andrew this.

“Tonight. Yeah. That’d be great, Doc.” Andrew straightened and smiled, looking comfortable for the first time since their conversation began.

“Excellent. And Andrew, _you_ never have to be embarrassed to tell _me_ that you’re eager to kill. Believe me.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me either,” Andrew said firmly. “We’re in this together.”


End file.
